Golden Retriever, sheltie

Had to get up and get moving, because Philip had assigned housework before the bridge ladies came. I'd vacuumed upstairs and was starting on the bathroom when Stephanie appeared unexpectedly. By the time I was waiting for Syd to come for the lark, Lee was here too--albeit expected. 

It was a pretty good walk. We ran first of all into Jackson and his lady, followed shortly by the woman I'd met just before the second snake; she was accompanied by a man who might have been her husband. The next meeting was under the trees; a(n older) teenager with his sheltie stopped to engage in wary conversation with Lark. After that it was just us. When we got home I came over to Syd's to get some library books; I'd given them to her to take back, but as Philip was retreating into town while the bridge group was here, I took advantage of the opportunity to go to the library. Syd and I decided I might as well take the books back while I was at it. While I was there Syd had a video for me to watch, and then I showed her and Ralph the wedding video. They were pretty appreciative. Then Phil called and said we were leaving in ten minutes. I came home to find him sitting outside.

The library was pretty busy. Beguilement is still not available at East branch, so I found another Loretta Chase and sat down. It wasn't bad, but my favorite is still Mr. Impossible. I think I need to read more Carsington books, though--so far I've only seen two of the brothers catch it, and I know there are at least two more with their own books. Anyway, we ended up checking out and going home for lunch. (Philip had an Ian Banks.)

Larked after dinner. It was pretty cool out, and we weren't the only ones out. The Serious Discussion couple ran into us at the curve by the pond. Lark seemed unusually uncertain about greeting them, though. She was less uncertain about charging off into the scrub on the far side of the creek; there was one very impressive bound straight into the air at one point, as she tried to get a better look at her quarry. Unlike the doe earlier, this quarry turned around. The next I knew of it, Lark was charging out of the scrub, pursued by a coyote. It saw me and did an impressive about-face; Lark promptly did the same and started to chase it. I used the Voice. She came back, without having gotten very far. Possibly she is beginning to take coyotes seriously, although I somehow doubt it. Sigh. After that we didn't meet anyone until passing the couple on their way back, near the gate.

Watched Silence of the Lambs. I guess it was pretty good, but I don't deal with creeps very well.

Episode 6 of Castle: "Always Buy Retail." Mystery: occult. Personal: ex-wife trouble.

Whew. Just managed to get up on time, then lost time calling Lark, when of course she was playing with Isaac. Also there was no paper. And my dress needed a lot of ironing. In the end, I was dressed but not combed or shod when Liz rang the doorbell--fortunately a bit early. She talked to Grandma while I finished getting ready, and then Syd and Syd brought Lark home, as she'd been playing over there. The kids were going home, so Lark had to come home too.

We got to church in time--just before the announcements began, in fact. Pretty close. Pastor Reese gave a sermon on Mortification, as the last in the series on Sanctification. It was unprepared but still good, largely based on Romans 8 and John Owen. Liz liked that Owen was named for him. :p We stayed quite a while after the service, partly so everyone could chat but mostly, I think, because Mr. Debenedittis is an elder or something and had to help close up. There was one window stuck, because the rope had been derailed and then jammed in the pulley, and everyone stood around watching Ben try to get it loose with a screwdriver while the elders/deacons offered assistance and their families offered suggestions. It was pretty funny--and I think everyone restrained themselves, more or less. I mean, we kibitzed and heckled, but nicely.

After church Liz took me to the Debes' for lunch. Shawn and Matt Stickel were there too, but a bit more familiar with the ground, as Matt is dating, or engaged to, or something, Rachel Debenedittis, and Shawn is his dad. Actually, I think they're just dating but everyone expects them to marry, including the two of them, and it's pretty freely discussed. It's all pretty nice, although at this rate when Abby, and possibly Sarah, are dating, their elder sisters will not be nice. Er, they'll be mean, but probably nicely. Oh, and besides more or less getting the order of birth down, I found out that Abby is younger than me, which was a shock. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that all her sisters are older than me, and she's a lot like them, so I assumed she was older too? They all explained it to me as the youngest trying to keep up, which does make sense, and is at the same time somewhat related to my version above presented. Anyway, we all had lunch (after they fixed it, in which process guests are not permitted) and then everybody sat and talked for awhile. And then I got scolded for trying to help clear the table, and they drafted Mr. Debenedittis, who had hitherto been sitting and talking. For which I was razzed. Sorry-! But, again, nicely. Gah. This entire family is nice, I don't know if I can handle it. Anyway, Liz took me home about three-fifteen, to my immense regret, but I knew I had to leave sometime.......That actually sounds a lot like the larger situation here, too. Hm.

And then I spent some time on the computer and it occurred to me that I could probably try for a job at, say, sheep! magazine after I graduate, thus combining the interests. Hm.

Then I spent a couple of hours reading One Foot In the Grave, a mystery by Peter Dickinson set in a nursing home. I did this outside, while Lark wandered about as she pleased and I whistled periodically to indicate that, should she be within earshot and so inclined, her return would be perfectly acceptable. Then I went inside, read some more, had something to eat, and went out to look for her. It was rather an adventure, in spite of worrying, because I've never had a real excuse to be out in the dark before. There were too many deer to count, but few enough to categorize: the doe, when it was still light enough to identify her as the sick one (unless there are rather a lot of does in bad shape about), now recovering; the buck, above me on the hill, who observed (and listened to) me calmly until I came too close, at which point he began to move away. I've noticed that even if you can't see the antlers, you can still identify a buck by the way he holds his head, balancing. It was becoming very dark when I surprised rather a herd, making them flee, one by one and then all of them, out of a thick stand of brush, dark blurs bounding through the darkness. I came to the house that overlooks the Heller road, from the balcony of which a large dog barks at us. I came down its driveway to Eagle Rock, still calling every minute or so. I had not been on the road long when Lark came bustling up, wriggling about, for once my pleasure in seeing her equal to hers in seeing me.  Grandma told me she'd dropped by the house, without coming in, then gone to find me. I'd been considering ringing doorbells--it was, after all, only nine o'clock. There was enough light to see wherever I put my feet, but little beyond.

She wanders up to me now, diffidently, wondering if she's exhausted her credit for petting; I hold a hand out, and she comes to stand next to me as I rub her side. I'm getting a headache.

Larked late, but it was pretty cool out, so we survived. It was a quiet walk, much more peaceful than last night's dream, in which, besides various other hikers, we met several deer and some moose. Which Lark tried to chase--with what degree of success I have forgotten. I think my subconscious is having trouble remembering where it is, though-- CO home or NE home, as the numbers are labeled in my cell.

Spent most of the day reading, pretty much until dinner, although some laundry got done. I think. During dinner Isaac called to invite me over, and after dinner I did so. Played with him and Sydney for a bit, then sat through dinner with them. I had some grapes to occupy myself, or I probably would have had a second dinner. -_-; 

After dinner, and some discussion of who would go on Lark's walk, I came home to put my boots on and found a message from Liz Debenedittis to call her. So I did, and gave her directions (which sounded coherent to me--I hope so), and then Syd (senior), Isaac, and I went on a hike with Lark. Isaac was pretty obnoxious, I think because he was still mad about Sydney monopolizing me. I have yet to find a balance between them. Sigh. I need to learn how to do this. I think his other problem, somewhat, is that he wants to have fun with me the way he did the first time we played. Experiences, however, are impossible to replicate, and he's having a hard time trying. And since, as I think he sees it, that first time was me chasing him for being obnoxious, the best way to have it happen again is to be obnoxious. It's not working. Sigh. It is making his friend and his grandma mad at him, which makes him sulky and more obnoxious. Sigh. In the end it was very nearly full dark when we got home. We saw a doe and a buck when we were almost to the gate, and had a lovely view of the buck as he leapt the fence. Very nice.

I'm beginning to get into going-home mode. Sigh--I'll miss everyone here.

Slept in--not sure why, but I don't think Grandma called me. That or I just don't remember. Total menace of a reprobate canine in my dream, though, and then the insane family that produced him--in training if not genetics. Seemed like they were at B's--dunno. Crazy horse, too, but that was all right. Oh well. It wasn't much of a loss--it's cold and wet outside, to the extent of wearing a jacket on our walk. Met a doe--I think she was the ill one from a few days ago, but in substantially better shape, to the extent of being able to leap the fence when Lark took after her. It began to sprinkle as we got home, and was raining seriously by noon. Carole and Grandma went to run errands, and I have laundry to do--Grandma wants me to wash it ahead of time, before packing. I feel like I'm packing a week early--not the intention, but probably how it'll end up if I don't watch myself.

Got some laundry done. Read Faust, began the Divine Comedy. 

Had dinner at lunchtime, rather late, and dinner even later--Grandma wasn't hungry, having snacked earlier, so I just warmed up some of last night's pasta. Then we larked. It was a bit cool, not that the jacket stayed on long, but we only met one person. Everywhere were signs of water, from today's downpour. The level of sand in the creek bottom was down by a couple of inches, and what remained was packed hard.

Golden Retriever, pughuahua?

Finished Three Came Home last night. Oops. Hadn't meant to do that. Oh well.....

Spent some time petting the cat, whose people should be returning today. Maybe I should call Brook and ask when.... 

Larked in good time, with the air still nice and cool. Met an elderly lady and her elderly Golden at the gate--Lark growled at him for coming too close to me.....this really is not good. Oh, and we saw a weasel; which is to say, Lark saw it and jumped, and then a couple seconds later I saw it about fifteen feet up a tree. Heh. It was a sort of reddish brown, with a pale grey underside. Yay new wildlife! Anyway, he looked pretty much like the top picture on this page. Although I have to say I don't think I've ever heard that version of "Pop! goes the weasel" before.....

Ah, and there was some sort of big truck, of the utilities variety, at the Heller Center. We were almost to the trail when he drove out, and I grabbed Lark's collar and got us there while the driver waited. Mm. Met another older lady out on the trail, then didn't see anyone until we got home. And we keep coming home when it's (objectively) still cool out, so no swamp cooler....

Quiet afternoon. Found an Ogden Nash collection and Kate Greenaway's Language of Flowers, printed in 1879 but all the young ladies in the illustrations are wearing Regency styles. Also it vindicates my side of the argument about flower languages: Mom says authors just make it all up as they go, with which I disagree. And here's this. Muahaha.

Philip got in as I was getting the mail while hoping the rice would dry out a bit. Last night's was some of the worst fried rice I have ever produced. Sigh. We ate it, though. With watermelon afterwards. I was about to take Lark out afterwards when Syd got home and came over, with a couple of granddaughters in tow--I assume they'd come with their mother to get Syd and Ralph from the airport. Lark, who was already excited about going for a walk, absolutely exploded. It was like when you blow up a balloon and then let it loose to zip around. Lol. Oh, and I got paid.....too much, but I'm not going to complain.

After that we larked. Philip had a movie scheduled close to eight, but we had plenty of time--I think it was about seven when we got home. In the meantime, it began to rain lightly shortly after we got out. We met a couple people--more than on a hot day--a woman with a dog, which looked very much like a cross between a pug and a chihuahua. Lark was a bit aggressive--he yelped, I grabbed her, they departed, I gave her a talking-to. For all the difference it's likely to make. Geh. Later there was a young guy out jogging, too--pretty cute, in a bland kind of way. It rained the entire time we were out.

We got home and Philip told me I ad to be ready to go in fifteen minutes. We were going to see Moon, which was only showing downtown and therefore required time to get there. Philip, please note, got into the shower only after I got home, and could reasonably be expected to use the bathroom. I ended up getting dressed in the studio, as soon as he was firmly in the shower.

Moon is suspense and sci-fi, with some mystery and a bit of psychological, I guess. Not my thing on so many levels, but I suppose it was a good movie. Pretty open-ended, but at the same time it doesn't feel like the answers to those questions would really fit. He goes back to Earth, and that's it? Well, no, but that's a story for another day--maybe. For our imaginations, maybe.

We got home about ten, and Philip promptly hooked the laptop up to the TV for another episode of Castle. I think the plot was a bit better in this one; in the last one, with our mystery writer tagging along with the cop the entire point of the plot was that it be something a mystery writer could predict, and therefore, it follows, a reader too. At least if you've read as many of the greats as I have, the writers who created these plots and cliches. Anyway, episode 2 was a bit less predictable, and our novelist shines slightly less in the revelation of plot points; this one took him by surprise, too. We are, however, discovering more about our lovely cop, although I object rather to having it laid out clearly for more obtuse viewers on Castle's laptop, as it is likewise revealed about the character in his new series, the ostensible reason for his tagging along behind Beckett on her cases. Besides the Mayor's being a fan, anyway--the man has fans everywhere, and uses them to a disgusting but expediting degree.

Incline tomorrow--so not prepared in any way, shape, or form.....

Golden Retriever

Got out for the walk about nine-thirty, after spending some time with Maddie. Carole was here when I left--she and Grandma were headed for the doctor's office for another INR. It was pretty hot out, but there were some people out--ran into an older woman who walks alone about at the creek crossing. I stopped in front of the stand of scrub there to look back for Lark, who was just then coming past the woman, with a polite greeting in her walk. Then I heard a buzz behind me. I whirled so fast, I don't even remember doing it and was standing on the far side of the trail staring at the rattlesnake that had been curled in the shade behind me. Yikes! This time I remembered the "run and hope Lark follows" plan. It didn't work. I looked back to check and the dog was just sticking her nose into the brush where I'd been standing. "Lark!!" That worked. She came. Tell me that's not the exact reverse of what we thought would work--I came up with running because I was sure calling her would be useless. Guess not..... We ran into Jackson the Golden and his lady up in the trees, and since she was headed the way we'd been I warned her about the snake. She was shocked--she'd been going back and forth along the shady trail, and on her last pass Jackson has been sniffing around about where we'd found the snake. She'd thought he'd found a dead animal or something, and had called him away. Meep. Yay obedient dogs. Lark is still warning Jackson away from me, though.....ahem. I was talking to her when the lady from earlier caught up with us. She heard us say "snake", and stopped to ask about it. She'd heard me call Lark when she'd found the snake, and was a bit shaken to hear how close she'd been herself. Yeah. I did the rest of that hike on adrenaline, afraid to stop once we were on the winding, rocky half lest I learn more about the area I was in--such as what else was there. It's great terrain for snakes, you see. I felt better once we were back on the road, but Lark was beginning to drag pretty badly. I was still able to move briskly. Have I mentioned I'm doing a study on long pants when it's hot? Apparently they help. I have no idea why, but I have more energy left when wearing long pants than in shorts. Also I'm less certain that a snake would be able to inject me.....ahem. Long pants + summer = comfort. Somehow.

With any luck, she'll learn which animals to stay away from based on which ones I shriek at her for talking to......so far we have rattlesnakes and coyotes. It would probably cloud the issue a bit if she ever met the huge garter snake that lives in the rocks over the culvert, but I don't believe she's encountered him yet. It's a very retiring creature.

Spent the afternoon reading Three Men In a Boat, not yet feeling up to choosing something else off Grandma's shelf without a prior recommendation. Besides that, it's a lot of effort for a book one isn't sure one wants to read. Three Men In a Boat, however, is most definitely a book one wants to read. Humor takes its turn with Victorianly poetic descriptions of scenery and imaginative descriptions of local history--one of my (several) favorite parts is Jerome's plaint on the subject of living with lovers, segueing smoothly, if bitterly, into a contemplation of how it must have been for the people who had to live with Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn during their necking period, and how difficult is must have been to avoid them.  In general, it's rather difficult to remember that this is written in the nineteenth century, as to my ear it has a great deal in common with most of the really good English writing I've been exposed to. Now and then it rather smacks one, however, as when Jerome is wondering flippantly whether, in the year 2000, the willow china of the day will be set on the mantel as ornament. Well, as a matter of fact, I'm very much afraid so. I don't know about the Ramsgate souvenirs, though.

Messaged Mom for new reading material, then found a book on the shelf: The Literary Courtship, by Anna Fuller. How could I resist? It turned out to be a romance, written and set in the early 1900's, and taking place largely in Colorado Springs, complete with photographs. One, of Nevada Avenue, surprised me with its familiarity: the street is paved now, but Philip and I take it on the way home from church every Sunday. The story itself was sweet, simple, and pretty predictable, at least to the veteran of such novels. All in all, there were no surprises, but the writing was enjoyable and the narrating character sympathetic.

Fed the cat and watered the plants after dinner, then took Lark on her run. There appeared to be a gathering of the picnic or barbecue variety at the green house; what was less explicable was the man sitting in the car parked along the road. Nor was he explained; but he did warn me about continuing, saying I was likely to run into a bunch of boys playing Airsoft war out back, and that they might mistake me for one of them. I thanked him for the warning and acknowledged this possibility. I was wearing a white t-shirt, which was helpful, but I made sure to take off my hat. In the end I doubt they noticed me, being occupied in camping behind their cover and carrying on urgent discussions through their walkie-talkies. Spoiled kids.....We did meet, some way into the trail, a middle-aged couple. The woman paused to ask about Lark, and to tell me they'd run into a similar dog earlier. To my regret, we saw no sign of any other dogs, nor met anyone else.

Golden retriever, poodle mix

Maddie was glad to see me this morning. I spent some time playing with her after checking all the plants, but had to quit when the claws came out. We larked as soon as I got home, which was pretty late. It was hot out. We met a couple of people on the Heller road--a man jogging, and the woman with her Golden who warned us about the rattler last time. She didn't recognize me until she was right close and I was talking to her dog, though. Maybe because I was wearing different camos and a nonmilitary t-shirt? Hm. Anyway. Despite the heat, I managed to maintain a good brisk pace, even back up the hill on the way home, so maybe there's something to be said for long pants? Or something. I've also been thinking about borrowing Syd's bike, which she suggested before she left, but I'm still not sure I want to. I'll probably just procrastinate until I get home.

Owen, as requested, sent me some brother-pics. The one most to the point was Mom standing between Peter and Doug--and looking up at Peter. Quite a ways up, in fact. 

Urk. Maybe I should take a few weeks of Krav before I go home.

After lunch I decided to make brownies. Grandma had shown me where everything was, and I had just cracked the first egg, when the doorbell rang. Oops. It was the folks from JJ Caulking, come to inspect the situation. Jackie was along, apparently an irregular occurrence, plus her husband, Sam, and one of the boys, Clint. I use the term "boy" loosely, as he's twenty-seven. Anyway. They didn't stay very long, and then I got back to the brownies. I'd finished, and was initiating cleanup, when a deer caught my eye: there was a doe, probably once a nice bright red, standing on our side of the edge of the Seamans' driveway. Her presence, in itself, was unusual; besides it being the middle of the day and all, Grandma says the red deer rarely come up here, and it's true that she's the first I've seen beyond the Heller estate. Besides that, however, she looked awful. Her ribs were showing through her faded, patchy coat, and there were suspicious little black marks that made me think of very fat flies all up her neck and along her head. It was pretty sad. I think she was probably old; her movements were measured and slow, like Cassie's, and when Lark dashed into the greenhouse and began barking up a storm she turned her head, examined the situation, and then decided the dog was no threat. She remained wary, however, and after a minute or so she began to move slowly off.

The brownies came out very well. :) Now I'm wondering if I should take Sam up on his teasing and really make brownies for the painters when they come. If I don't I know he'll tease me, and I'd love to see his reaction if he thinks I took him seriously......mweheh.

Larked after dinner. We met only one person, a familiar jogger with his little poodle. No deer. It was fairly nice out, there having been a downpour during dinner, but there didn't seem to be anyone taking advantage of it. There was a police helicopter, though, flying back toward the far end of the little Heller valley.

15 pushups, form improving; 20 situps--note: don't count in English.

Finished Mistress of an Age, reading for three hours straight.....

It was pretty cool this morning, up until the sun came out--just before we larked. Oh, well. It remained very cool in the shade, with intermittent breezes elsewhere. We survived. There was a doe watching us from across the creek, once; she had a lovely cool nest in the tall grass under a tree, and looked very comfortable. Perhaps there was a fawn nearby. A bit later we met a girl out jogging. She was blonde, and my age or a little older.

New info and plan on the camping. Apparently it runs from the 31st through the 5th; Philip, for various reasons, can't go, but he does think I could go by myself, if he can find someone at church to give me a ride. This suggestion is making me, very quietly, freak out, but I'd like to try all the same, I think. I need a lot more info, though....

Finished the chapter on Germaine's ideology, started the one on her relationship with Napoleon, which tries--and is, so far, doing a pretty good job--to explain why she and the little Corsican did not get along. Oh, and I finished the verbal sections of the SAT, in some cases with half the time to spare. There were several questions, however, that I could not answer to my own satisfaction. Whether they will be to the test's satisfaction I do not know.

Ran over to Syd's after dinner. Maddy followed me through the house as I performed a perimeter check and cleared the area, and demonstrated a much better appetite for her gooshyfood than last time. Otherwise nothing of note. Well, the rain. It was sopping outside. It was down to sprinkling when we got out on our walk, and cleared up shortly after. Speaking of the walk, the most interesting occurrence was meeting a family at the bend in the trail near the head of the creek. The boy--early teens?--was holding a GPS device, and everyone was following. As I approached they were going off the trail, then rerouted onto is as the oracle told them they were getting cold. "Playing GPS?" I asked, after they'd noticed out presence--Lark first, as she wriggled up. She tends to be wrigglier with men than women, but here she had both--besides the mom, there was a girl somewhere around my age. Dad began explaining to me the game they were playing--GeoCache, by which you find various caches with your GPS, leave your name, and go on to the next. Exciting outdoor family activity. Sounds good. They certainly enjoyed it. Well, the guys did--mom and daughter weren't so vocal......although possibly they were merely eyeing me with suspicion as I peered at screens and things. I don't know. It was a good walk, anyway.

Four coyotes

Nice and cool and wet this morning. It actually stayed that way all through the walk, too, although the sun came and went. We didn't meet anyone, but I did learn something. Crows really croak. Like frogs. Bullfrogs. Grrroak. I never knew. I would not, however, have minded in the least if the crow, after educating me thus, had either gone somewhere else or shut up. He kept flying, back and forth, overhead until we got out onto the road. Sheesh. He must've thought I really needed the lesson drilled into my head.

Quiet day, really. Reading The Forever King, somebody's sequel to their slightly modified--majorly modified--version of The Once and Future King. Several characters, including Arthur, have reincarnated, and a couple never died. It's not bad, I suppose.

Went over to Syd's to be briefed on the house-sitting. Since it seems the camping trip is a week later than thought, she doesn't need to arrange anything separate for the weekend. Also Phil told her there will be no camping trip, because of Austin's wedding, but I'm still not sure whether he was clear on the actual date at this point. Hope lives eternal....

Larked about seven-thirty. It was really nice out: cool, cloudy, no visible sun. Lots of bugs, though. We were more than halfway along the narrow, twisty second leg of trail when I saw four coyotes: parent leading two pups, with the other parent bringing up the rear. Lark, fortunately, never saw them, but we came under some rather suspicious scrutiny. The adults seemed to feel were best left alone, I'm glad to say. Later on, as we came up the road, a doe bounded across; I'm still not sure if Lark found her or not, because she went off-trail for awhile when we came up to the point she crossed.

15 pushups 20 situps

Lab-ish, something that reminded me of the golden/gsd

I finally get enough sleep, and I still want to fall over on the walk. What is wrong with me? Wasn't a very interesting walk, though.....

Did the grocery shopping with Philip. Grandma sent us to Whole Foods this time, which was interesting. Especially the deli area--the atmosphere is.....individual. With that out of the way, he dropped me at the library, while he took the groceries home and ran a few more errands. Typically, the library had Legacy but not Beguilement, continuing the trend of reading them in reverse order. Sigh. It's Beguilement that I particularly want, too. Oh well. Read Komarr until Philip called to say he was waiting.

After lunch Phil pinned me down for some math. I did another section of a practice test, and he walked me through all the geometry problems. Remains to be seen whether I remember any of it, but I guess it was interesting, and for the most part, comprehensible. There has got to be a better way to explain functions, though. "Little box that takes things in and spits things out" is not best calculated to latch onto something else in my head and stick to it.

Immediately after math Phil took me off the the dorm parking lot for a driving lesson. We were out about forty-five minutes, and at the end of it he had me drive home. Please note that this involves navigating the curve on Stanton, which freaks me out even when I'm not driving. I got us home, though. And into the garage, although Philip hit the parking brake at the same time I hit the driving brake. Insulting. Grandma laughed when I told her about it, though. Also when I mentioned that if I ever decide to pass for college-age with the bunch at the University, I have a much bigger chance of someone catching me than before. But anyway, I never even scraped the car.

Wonders will never cease. We were on our walk after dinner, Lark and I, and saw a doe. She was a lovely red, and her expressions reminded me irresistibly of a skittish sheep, her stare and the way she moved her head back. She was above us, some way up the slope, and I had hopes that Lark wouldn't see her. In vain. She saw the doe, and started toward her, not bounding but trotting, uncertain if she could chase. I called her back, telling her no, leave it, come, and, after some indecision ("But that looks chaseable!") she came. She did. She left a deer and came to me, and sat for her leash, and eagerly accepted a treat. She did strain rather at the leash, and went off hunting as soon as I let her off, but she did not, this time, see the doe, who had followed us suspiciously over the shoulder we'd gone around. She ended up deciding on her own to get out of there, and sprang away--in a somewhat deliberate manner, like a bounding jog--without being properly spooked. Lark did not pursue.

That was the main event, as far as I was concerned, but we met a couple--I think the woman was Japanese, and her smile made me think, "Oh, so that's why they draw the eyes as lines for smiles"--it was a very nice smile--and had a distant not-quite-encounter with a woman, two or three kids, and two dogs. I was in a position to make effective evasive maneuvers, so I did. The dogs were both larger than Lark, and while she's becoming more sociable she still doesn't appreciate situations like that. We got home with three songs to go on the CD I'd put in before leaving.

Up to episode 8 in Trigun. Ehehehe.

 

Golden, dachshund, goldendoodle, golden/german shepherd, short black poodly creature

Sid came over after breakfast to talk to Grandma. She's taking us to the doctor's office this afternoon--somehow I'm going, I'm not sure why. It was nine-forty when Lark and I headed out. It was pretty nice out. It was kinda funny--when I hit the dam, and went onto it to cross, there was a woman with a Golden coming on one side, and a man with a boy and a dachshund going on the other side. We met the three boys just before the big dip in the path, where water runs when there's enough. The man said "hi," the boy--about Isaac's age, I think--told me they had a dog with them too, and he was the short one, and Reggie the dachshund tried to mount Lark. She didn't disembowel him, so I guess she liked him. I said "excuse me," "I see," and "Lark!" in that order. Then we ran for a bit. The other option was to stay with them, and, while interesting, it's a bit more complicated than just leaving them behind. My body took the running rather well, I thought. Anyway, we met the woman with the Golden again in the road, and she told me she'd seen what she thought was a snake, up in the middle of the road, and so had turned back. I thanked her for the warning, and we exchanged a few remarks on snakes in general. She doesn't like 'em. So we kept going, and sure enough, up on the slope before the next patch of shade there was a sort of log shape in the middle of the road. It looked a bit like a dried stalk of mullen, and I thought, "Was that what she was talking about?" Lark promptly trotted up to sniff it, and as promptly bounced back, as the snake hissed and drew its head back. As its tail began to buzz, I called Lark, my voice, after the first shriek, only a little frantic. She looked at me, looked back at the interesting creature making such an odd sound in the middle of the road, looked back at me, and then trotted regretfully over. I leashed her, telling her what a good dog she was, and we made a careful circuit, going off the road a bit, as the dratted snake had a commanding position in the center of the road. I did not unclip the dog until we were inside the house. Lesson no. 1: I do not like poisonous snakes. Lesson no. 2: If Lark is ever bitten, it will be on the nose. Lesson no. 3: Just because you dream your dog is eaten by coyotes does not mean she will be bitten by snakes. Or at least not the very next morning. I noticed even my subconscious couldn't imagine such an eventuality, though.

Sid took Grandma to the doctor's office after lunch. I spent some time on the comp, then crashed. Grandma woke me at about four-fifteen to get ready to go to the ball game. I was ready to go, having walked the dog, eaten, and changed, by five, the estimated time of departure. Ralph came this time--he's allowed to drive, now. I hadn't known, though if I'd thought about it I suppose I would've. Anyway, it was a decent game, I guess. The Dodgers creamed us. It was the same place as last time, so there were a lot of dogs again, starting with two beagle puppies in the parking lot--terribly adorable, they were. Then there were a Goldendoodle, which I visited, and a boxer, which I did not, in the audience. Oh, and those two beautiful Danes went past again. After that was a huge brindle mastiff--it was a perfect setup for Sid's joke, actually, where you go up to the guy in the park with the dog and go "Oooh, handsome," or something like that, and when he's accepting this as a compliment of his dog, you go, "The dog's not bad either." I, of course, am not about to get up the nerve to do this in a million years (Sid says she can't remember if she did this when she was younger or not), much less to run up to a shirtless guy in the park and say it. Fun to think about, though. Hm, what else? Oh, yeah, there was a man walking a pair that may have been an Aussie and a rat terrier. Not sure, though. Aussie mix, maybe--it had a conspicuous tail, for one.....

We larked again after I got home, about eight. We met the couple with the leashed barkers almost first thing, coming up the Nevada road; they reeled their dogs in and kindly waited for us to get to our turn. I got in a breed query, and got an answer on the brown one, at least: golden/German shepherd. Wow. Never would have thought it. Right color, though, I guess. It was actually a really nice walk, after my knee stopped hurting; a certain prancing someone whanged it with a stick before we even made the gate. For symmetry, I guess. The other one's flashier, with the scabbed scrape, but it was hurting at walks for days after I knocked it going after her on a runaway night. Feh. My left stopped hurting after awhile, though, so I could enjoy the walk and wonder whether we'd make it back before full dark. We did, but the sun was no more than a pale orange glow behind the mountains, fading through pink to blue. A buck was standing at the fence between Heller land and the driveway parallel to the road; I think we'd interrupted his feeding, though when I caught his eye he was simply standing, watching us. Lark, of course, noticed nothing, though he stood there until I could no longer see him.

Fifteen pushups, twenty situps. I could probably up the number of pushups now, but I don't have the energy.

Schnauzer, pit bull

Eventually dragged out of bed. At least my knee scabbed over--I skinned it last night on the stairs outside, which is ridiculous. Also, if Lark is going to make a habit off running over behind Myrdice's to bark at distant threats to the homestead, I am going to start taking her out last thing on a leash. I don't care if she comes back promptly or not, this is ridiculous. And unacceptable, did I mention that? Unacceptable. Unfortunately I'm not sure she knew why I was mad. She should know, at least, that she's not supposed to cross the road, but.....

We went out at about eight-forty-five. It was beginning to heat up but wasn't too bad, but by the time we got home, after an uneventful walk around the loop, it was hot enough. Somebody was weed-eating in the yard at the green house. A woman walking a schnauzer beat us out the gate. Nothing else to report. Hot....

It occurred to me that Whit, from The Sharing Knife, has a lot in common with Peter. Hm.

Read, did my schoolwork, fell asleep. Quiet afternoon.

Was unusually hungry at dinner....ate a lot, then had to convince my stomach that it ought to be full capacity by now. It shut up eventually, but I hope this isn't going to become a common occurrence.

I'm not sure what time we went for a walk, except that Antiques Roadshow was on. I do know it was eight when we finished talking to the middle-aged guy with a very well-mannered pit bull at the gate. He leashed her, because sometimes she does fight--she had a gash on her leg stapled because of another pit down on the road from Heller to Nevada--but she sat, and then lay down, quietly while we talked. He also asked if the older guy walking an Aussie he'd seen before had been my dad, but no. Also the dog was twelve, he said. I'd like to meet that pair sometime. Anyway, we talked for quite awhile, mainly about pits. But we parted eventually. I was surprised and a little amused to see a new sign at the trailhead: below "NO MOTORIZED VEHICLES" is a shiny new sign: "DEALING WITH URBAN WILDLIFE-- This is a natural area. There may be rattlesnakes. Please stay on the trail." Wasn't there this morning. I wonder if it has anything to do with the snake the Seamans' neighbors found? Anyway, we made the circuit, getting home after eight-thirty but before dark.

I skipped pushups to see how far I could get with the situps, but I only made twenty-five. -_-;

Husky/Sheltie, golden, dachshund

Larked at ten to nine. It was much too hot by the time we got home. We met the Husky/sheltie again, though. Her mistress asked if Grandma had kicked me out early again. Yeah, kinda, except it isn't even early anymore. Legacy thought she had to protect her mistress from Lark. Yeesh, and my dog hasn't even realized I need protecting from anything. Possibly just as well......

Started a series I've had on the wishlist for months. Watashitachi no Shiawasena Jikan, Our Happy Hours, is a manga adaptation of a Korean novel, with Sahara Mizu in charge. I've always liked Sahara Mizu; her works leave me with an indescribable feeling, a sort of disturbed peace. This one is no exception. It's the story of a young woman who doesn't play the piano any more and a young man on death row. As they open up to each other, we learn their stories, feeling their pain as they feel one another's. And as they teach each other to find meaning in life again, these two people, who have both tried to commit suicide several times, learn to hope--and to fear. There's one more chapter untranslated in the series, and it'll probably be a couple weeks before they release it.

Sahara Mizu is the only mangaka whose multiple tragedies I'll read, knowing for certain that they are tragic. --What is that word?It's a strange word.....What are its parts, how do they fit together? Maybe it's Greek.... Excuse me a moment...........Hm. Apparently the unreadable Greek root meant "goat-song." Latin derived from it "tragaedia," which came to Old French as "tragedie." Should've seen that coming.

I was reading Hourou Musuko by the time the man came to work on the swamp cooler. Patrick is a middle-aged Japanese man, shorter than I am, and he said the cooler has a bearings problem, which he will fix tomorrow. Right. Okay.

Mike came by after three to talk to Grandma. She brought one of the watermelons Grandma likes, Dulcinea from Safeway. I balled it for a watermelon salad, like the other night's. Mom got here about five, in time for dinner, and there was enough time for me to take Lark for a quick run before that--with the result that I was extra hungry, of course. 

We larked again at eight. Saw a woman out biking, who passed us quickly. Lark followed her, though, and when she was getting out of sight at the bend in the end of the slope I started to jog. Just as well, too--she'd met up with a dog. He was this little, hilariously round black and red dachshund. His people were on the turnoff to Nevada, with a golden wondering if he wanted to come over too. In the end, the dachshund went back to them, and they talked the goldie into coming while I told Lark she didn't need to go over. We, again, didn't even go all the way along the first leg. It was really buggy, and I had to have us back before dark. There was a young red buck feeding in the willows on the way back. He watched us suspiciously, not bolting even when Lark galloped past. I love it when the deer just watch....

Fifteen pushups again, no breaks, urgh. Twenty situps--getting easier. I have to take a break after the pushups or I don't make any progress with the situps, though.

They were playing Dvorak's New World Symphony when I went to bed. I lay awake listening trying to figure out what it was--my first guess had been Dvorak, but then there was plenty of time for second-guessing before the ninth movement, which is the bit I know really well--and then I think as soon as it got to the ninth movement and I went, "Oh, so it was Dvorak," and relaxed, I went to sleep. Oh well.

Dalmatian-Dachshund, coyote, and three deer

Well, I did get my own adventure in this morning's dream....and it was depressing. Very depressing. Reminds me of the beginning of Mission: Impossible. Feh.

We larked at ten to nine. It was pleasantly cool, but heated up fast. Ther was a lovely red doe on the road, in the bend shaded by willows and cottonwoods. Lark saw her before I managed to get close enough to see around the tree in the way. Sigh. We met the funniest dog, though, out walking with a couple of women at the first bend in the trail after the creek bed. He was white, all over black spots, and had a Dalmatian head, but he also had the shortest little bow-legs. "Dalmatian-beagle?" I hazarded. "Ah--Dalmatian-dachshund," one of the women said. Oh. Of course. I should have guessed. It was exactly that sort of body. Maybe the Dalmatian head distracted me, or maybe I just didn't want to think about such a crossing. I still don't, but that dog was hilariously cute. They almost caught up with us while we were at the watering hole, but we dodged up to the other trail and I don't think they saw us.

Decided to finish Beauty Pop, now that it's been completed for yonks. I hadn't remembered quite how much fun some of the characters are.....

Was thinking at lunch that the Dalmadoxy could be a legitimate hybrid. I'm sure it could be popular.

Buckets of rain after we got the mail. Was that at four? Hm. It was lightening up when I finished BP, anyway. Well, it'll probably be muddy on tonight's walk, though. 

Mom called during dinner. I talked to her while Grandma finished eating--so nice. She says they've put the paddock back together, and are separating the lambs from the ewes. Glad to hear it.

We went for our last run about seven-thirty. It was reasonably cool, with clouds advancing to regain the ground lost in a retreat after this afternoon's rain. There was a very handsome buck standing near the road, screened from Lark by a stand of trees. I didn't see him at all until I was nearly past, then the flick of an ear, perhaps, caught my eye, and I twitched. He calmly observed as I went a few more steps, at a normal gait, then carefully backtracked to greet him. He watched and listened, undisturbed, at I chatted him up and looked him over. He was the red type, very handsome, with what I understand to be four-point antlers, still velvety. I stayed for a few moments, until Lark began to get suspicious, and then I went on, feeling that it would be fearfully impolite to let her chase him. Makes me wonder if hunting is allowed, down there--although he may have felt safe simply because of the season.

Our walk continued uneventfully for the full loop until we were almost out into the creek bed, still in the little scrubby area where the little crick probably flows once a year into the wide wash. I was watching Lark run into the brush around the creek bed, where she would probably meet me when I came out, when a movement caught my eye through the scrub. A deer? The movement was pretty low, though, and of a different type--I waited for the animal to come clear: it was a coyote. Heading for Lark. I yelled for her to come, and she did, promptly, possibly having developed an ear for hysterical summonses by now. So she came, and looked back, and--oh, cool, what's that? Hey, (running over) what are you? LARK! Come! Huh? Oh, Sorry, gotta go, Mom's calling. And she came. Thank you. She even stayed close all the way out of the long grass ("Don't go in the long grass! Velociraptors!") and into the Heller road. I kept a frantic eye on her, having no hope of tracking the coyote in the scrub, brush, and tall grass, and by the time she was tired of surveillance I was beginning to tell myself things like, "Well, he looked like he was going somewhere. He won't take the trouble to follow us, will he? Probably not." She did disappear, though, in the scrub oaks a fair way up the road, and I had calmed down sufficiently that I hadn't freaked out by the time I saw another buck, of the gray variety this time, bounding along the fence line that runs down to the gate. There seemed to be a small black streak on the grass some distance behind him, and I focused on the next clear view. Yes, Lark was after him. I continued, no longer worried except in the automatic, almost casual way of any mother while their child is doing something stimulating. Do deer kick? Elk and moose kick. Nah, she's always too far behind. I doubt a deer would fight, anyway. Well, probably a mother would, if she had fawns nearby. Not a buck, though. Deer are supposed to be defenseless--but defencelessness doesn't mean you can't be an aggressor, with the right attitude.--She came when I whistled from out past the gate, coming down the slope and under the rail fence up there. When I called her for the leash, she said, Are you kidding? Give me a break. Oh, fine. Whatever.--And she lay down to pant until I'd clipped the leash on. I've been making her sit for the leash, past few days, and she apparently felt drop was less demanding. We made it home, anyway.

New manga, Teppen!. Showbiz, which is okay. Girl trying to find unknown family member, with a comedy tag. Hm, potential. Dorm-room gender-bender--well why didn't you say so?! Wheeeee! Good, strong heroine, too--personality-wise, I mean, and being a boy was more of a misunderstanding than anything else. Did I say whee? Wheeee! Only three chapters so far, though. I hope they don't make it twenty volumes--five should be about right, I'd say. Anyway, bai now! :D

Three sets of five each situps and pushups, just before showering. Lark administered first aid after the pushups, until I was ready for situps. Oog......

Husky/Sheltie

Last night was a debacle. Philip was watching Minority Report in the studio, and I didn't want to. So I took The Blue Hawk down to the sitting room, and when I finished it I went and got Strata, because the movie wasn't over. Strata didn't keep me awake very well, though, so I went to sleep. Philip kicked me off the couch at ten-thirty, and I moved to my bed. I woke up to shower at one-thirty, and the fabric creases were deeply imprinted on my skin.

This morning I was light-headed with lack of sleep. Grandma very firmly kicked me outside at nine, though, and we went for our walk. I was alive by the time we reached the Heller road, where I had a short conversation about lawns and mowers with a guy from the green house, who apparently was lending the riding mower to the neighbor, who only had a push. Or so I gathered. He had an odd, unidentifiable accent, and while I'm pretty sure he's not the one who told me about the cat I have no idea what his age was. He was maybe kinda youngish.....I think....although he talked to me pretty readily, which is more typical of older groups......never mind. I just wonder if he was the one practicing the drums in the garage last night.

About half-way through the first leg we met a lady and her dog, who was a little shorter than Lark but at least as heavy, if only with fur.  She was a husky-Sheltie cross, one eye dark, the other blue. I spotted the Sheltie at once; she bore a certain resemblance to Radar, with a similar outer coat. I never would have figured out the husky. We chatted a bit, and the wet little dog let me pet her. I got away with it because Lark was off staring up at a squirrel or something. That pair got around--the next person I met, an older guy at an outcropping shortly after we spooked a deer (I saw it because I could hear the impact of its feet--Lark never noticed) had seen them at the pond. He had been watching another deer, which bolted up the hillside when we came. We had a nice chat; his conversational style favored Old Nebraska Farmer, which was rather a whiff of home, even though he talked about deer and bears rather than hay prices. The weather was still there, though.

We stopped by the dig on the way back, when Lark was worn out. A campus cop pulled up as we came in; he told me someone had called to say they couldn't get the gate open--but it was open and everyone was there when he came. No one knew who'd called, either. Nobody worried about it much. I said hi to Michaela, who asked after Grandma. There was a new girl, too, Megan. The professora introduced her to Michaela. Megan shook hands with her, and then held out her hand to me. I shook, introducing myself and explaining that I wasn't on the dig. Michaela added that I was their daily visitor. "Yeah. It's my dose of external human contact." "Very important," someone said. 

Cleaned the bathroom. Grandma approved it.  ^_^ Had some comp time, and then they made me do math about three. Next is reading: SAT handbook and Out of Africa.

Philip left before I finished algebra. Acquainted myself with the handbook independently, therefore. I'm not surprised it's three inches thick, the way they squander space in there. About three-thirty Grandma, who had expressed a desire to go outside with me when I brushed the dog, came and said how about you brush the dog now? So we went outside, and Lark and I alternated grooming and wrestling under the crabapple while Grandma walked up and down the patio.

Rereading From Far Away. I think next I'll read Chizumi and Fujiomi. I do love Hikawa-sensei--she's just so sweet, and somehow the romance has such a serene tone. I've never expressed this to my own satisfaction.

Took Lark for a shot run amid gathering clouds at eight. Went a little way into the loop, until the trail goes into the scrub, and then turned back. Met a jogger at the gates--I hope she isn't getting soaked, besides ruining her motivational electronics. New iPods are expensive. ;p Lark took us to Sid's on the way home, where Ralph was out on the porch with the phone and Sid was watching TV. I talked to Sid for a little, then called Grandma to tell her where I was. When I told her it was beginning to rain she said to come right home, so we did.

Having a float with my manga now. Grandma's in bed. G'night.

You know, reading the bit in the last volume, where the people of Ennamarna are trying to protect Noriko, I'm thinking......I read too many cynical stories. Bujold, I'm talking about you....

Two German Shepherds

Finished Shards of Honor rather.....late. I always tell myself I should shower, then read.....sigh. And I should've washed my hair, but I wanted to be in bed before 12:30. Oh well. Do it tonight.

So, does anyone remember Pilot Officer Arde Mayhew? A jump pilot whose implanted were designed for the now-obsolete RG freighter? Miles bought his ship for him in the beginning of his first galactic adventure as Admiral Naismith. Okay, so you remember him. Do you remember that fresh young pilot who took Cordelia off-planet in her slippers when she was running from Betan Security because they thought she was a plant from ImpSec? Well....yeah. Guess all the older men Miles knows were nice boys when Cordelia was running around solving problems before Aral got there. Although if it comes to that, as far as she and Aral are concerned, they're all nice boys, and Miles isn't seeing men that way until Mirror Dance or so....

But speaking of running from Betan Security, there's something else I've noticed. Every time a woman shows the slightest inclination to marry a Vorkosigan, her family immediately jumps to the conclusion that she's unstable and not to be trusted. Cordelia? Her mum authorizes her commitment to the psych ward. Kareen? Her parents hit the roof, detail a sister to tail her, and forbid all intercourse with Vorkosigan House. Ekaterin? Her cousin decides she's not to be trusted with her own son, and said son has to call the Emperor in to change the man's mind. Oh, and...sorry, Miles, but Mark got going first.

Lee's here this morning. She shows up in an assortment of cars; the one that seems to me to suit her best is the little red pickup. Today, however, she drove a silver convertible. A Mercedes convertible.

I'd really like to know if she owns all these cars. Ah. No. Apparently she mentioned to Grandma that it's borrowed.

Reading  Barrayar now. So far it's something something of a mixture of Poor Cordelia (she didn't sign up for all these politics, and she hardly ever has time with Aral) and Good Old Cordelia (as when, for one example of many, she has that conversation with Vordarian that, to his chagrin, completely fails to even startle her until she realizes that it was supposed to shock her.)

I had a nap after lunch. It was interesting how the Williams theme of the radio fundraising influenced my dreams; when I woke up, I had been dreaming about a dense young man in a pilot's jumpsuit on the verge of being pulled off the tops of some lockers by a bunch of zombies. It made more sense when they had music going than when they were talking.

The new speech therapist, Diana, came while I was asleep. She's......actually, the jury's out until I've seen some of her during full consciousness. "Just woke up and sneezing all over the place" is not a state conducive to sound verdicts. She seems okay, though, even if I prefer our regular ladies so far.

We hit the road about three-forty, only to find that Lark's still limping. With this in mind, we turned back early, but I decided once we reached the creek bed to go up along our usual way back to a rise with a view of the land. It was at this point that we encountered a very handsome brace of extremely well-mannered German Shepherds. So well-mannered were they, in fact, that Lark dealt with them without any freaking out or requesting backup--although she did wriggle out from between them to stand on the outside, accessible to only one of them. Their master talked them into continuing, addressing a few remarks to Lark on his way, and we continued. Actually we went a little farther than planned, because Lark kept going a little past the dip there, where she stalled a middle-aged gentleman on a bike. We got out of his way so he could get up sufficient momentum to take the dip, and turned back after him. It was on the way down past the lookout point that I found a snake. It was about eight inches long, with no discernible rattle but a blackened tail tip.  It looked very much like a rattler. It was lying very still and rather flat in the middle of the path, and I wondered if perhaps it had been run over and killed by the bike. By the time I found a dead yucca stalk to stir it, Lark had almost come to see what interested me; so that, when it stirred its head and flicked its tongue, I took off, calling Lark, to make sure that whatever it was, she didn't discover it was poisonous. It may have indeed been run over by the bicycle, and have been either knocked out or paralyzed; but when one is accompanied by a curious little dog who enjoys tormenting snakes, one does not investigate these things too closely.

Owen called again. Boy, I swear his greeting sounded exactly like B. Maybe I can blame the phone....

Boy, I'd forgotten how much of Angsty Cordelia there is in Barrayar. It's very different from Miles' view of her, for certain--although it's equally certain that she's rarely under such stress during his adventures, and when she is we don't see it, because we're watching Miles horse around scaring her half to death. 

Well, back to my book. 'Night, all. 

Coyote

0.o This one was a winner. It started out with me and Lark walking to Lincoln, although I think perhaps I had a scooter or something. It ended up with me as Rayne, fighting some relations who'd stolen a family business or something. I'm not sure why he ended up shopping for snow traversal equipment, though. For one thing, I don't think there was any snow on the ground. I wonder if my subconscious is telling me the only adventures I can have are vicarious?

Well, Karen came sometime after ten-thirty to take an INR that seems to have disturbed her. She's going to try to come back later today, if she manages. We'll see. Diane came after that, and we all talked about pets during lunch. Lark took enthusiastic part in the discussion. I was petting her with my right hand and had to use my spoon with my left.

We engaged in a spot of reconnaissance for our walk today. The original plan had been to do this down at the far end of Rockhurst, where there would appear to be something in the nature of a store. However, we set out at about two-thirty, Grandma wanted us back by four, and it was three o'clock when we hit the road where we usually come off it. At this point I should explain our route. I was trying to save time, so we went along the driveway that runs behind the house, taking the opportunity to find the best way to get off it and strike across towards the dorms. Having ascertained the lay of the land in this area, we then proceeded to further acquaint ourselves with the slope we're in the habit of descending. Ground looks very different going up from its appearance going down. In the end, we hit an open spot some distance above our objective, and at this point simply went down a little way to the road. Then, still according to the original plan, we headed up the road, until I looked at my watch and decided we didn't have enough time. There was no way we could go up to Rockhurst, down it a mile or so, back up, and then down the gravel road to Grandma's, because after that there was no way I would be able to mind my feet going down the secret passage. So I decided this would be an opportune moment to follow the last two stretches of the gravel road, which I'd always skipped and which bothered me rather, nagging at me as unexplored ways tend to do these days. So we went that way. It's a winding road, with large expanses of trees and scrub between the stretches. In theory I was aware that there were coyotes living in there. I was still surprised when we encountered one by the side of the road, on the last stretch, within a shout of the dorms. I saw it when I turned to look back at a movement, and then Lark spotted it. She charged over. I said, very firmly, "No. Come on. Leave it," and began to walk away. She followed, somewhat to my relieved surprise, but then the coyote came out into the road, looking to me as though it would come after us. I turned and advanced on it a little, shouting at it to leave my dog alone. It thought better of coming and sheered off into the brush on the other side of the road. Lark, idiot, followed, but she came when I called her back, and we began to walk toward the dorms. I kept a wary eye out for the coyote, and tracked his cautious stalk of us long after Lark had apparently forgotten all about it. He was out of sight when we reached the gate, having apparently stayed at one post where there was a screen of brush once we were at a certain distance.

I could still see the coyote when I started hearing the sound of a basketball from the little paved area with a hoop behind the dorm. Lark headed for the boy with a ball as soon as she ducked under the gate, and I followed her, more slowly and a little uncertainly. He proved to be willing to put up with a little dog after his ball, and we stayed there for a while, exchanging occasional comments while he and Lark played, until he had to go.He was nice--diffident, and I think also uncertain. 

Jinn came over to chat, bringing some experimental soup to try on us. Apparently she had obtained (after several attempts met by a closed gift shop) the soup cookbook sold by a monastery called, if I recall correctly, Christ in the Desert. *googles* ......Well, I suppose it could be the one in New Mexico.....Anyway. Someone managed to buy the cookbook for her, and she is now happily trying out recipes, and brought the fruits of one such endeavor to us, as test audience. So we're going to have that for dinner.

After Jinn left Sid called to tell me she had some extra cole slaw, and would we be interested? We would indeed. I wish these people would quit worrying about whether I'll like something, though. I'll eat it, okay? Don't worry about it. So Lark and I went over to Sid's, with direction from the home base to come right back. Lark hung back to dally a bit with the cat, and a fascinating burrow under a tree, but I did, assisted somewhat by the presence of Ralph's brother John. There's a certain family resemblance, a similar head shape, but they don't cultivate it at all. Where Ralph has the remaining hair on the sides of his head buzz cut, John has a thick sheet of silver hair combed straight over his head. He doesn't wear glasses, and his expression is cooler than Ralph's. He doesn't smile as much or as warmly. To top it off, I'm pretty sure this is the brother Ralph mentioned as not liking Mitch, which strongly reinforces my impression. He was polite, I suppose, if cool, and thought he might have met me before. Ralph said he was thinking of Philip. I'm inclined to agree.

But speaking of Sid, she's been planning on renting Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon to watch with Isaac. She got it, and they plan to watch it on Saturday night. I'm invited, acceptance pending approval by my chain of command. The top said "probably," so now it only remains to be seen if Philip has anything better to do. It seems unlikely--his plans tend to be for Friday nights, so Saturday should be free. I hope so. I'd like to watch a movie with Isaac; I might get a retort out of it, for when Philip complains about people who talk during movies. Besides that, I'd like to see this movie, and possibly Isaac's relations along with. I don't know who else will be there, but it seems probable that Sid's going to have another gathering on.

Well, I think I'll go watch Batman Begins now.

Coyote

Mom and Grandma just called me into the greenhouse to watch a fat, healthy coyote go through the backyard! He was very handsome, and not at all shy. Lark, who was tied out, didn't even notice him from where she was lying in the shade of the garden. Silly dog. He saw me coming into the greenhouse with my glasses and trotted away into the Seamans' back yard.

Karen, the nurse, came for Grandma's INR almost an hour late, and after she left Mom and I went to the library. I got some Heyers, a Pratchett, and the last Bujold omnibus, Miles in Love. I've read the books in it, but there's a short story included which is otherwise unavailable. We also found Dick Francis' autobiography, which I'm going to read aloud to Grandma.

Mum left about ten-thirty or so. I spent some time on the comp, finishing "Two Lumps", and when Grandma got up from her nap we had leftover corn chowder for lunch. Once Grandma went down for her nap, Lark and I went for our walk. We were out about half an hour, going up toward the Treasure, sheering off along the side of the ridge, and heading down to the dorm parking lot once we got past the barbed-wire boundary fence. From the parking lots we went along Stanton home. One advantage to dog-walking in Colorado is that little black dogs wear out faster than girls in white T-shirts. *evil grin* So, yes, I'm beat when we get back, but she's more beat. Bweheheheh. One.....is it a downside?.....point about going past the dorms is that there are a lot of younger people going along the road there. Intimidating but not necessarily bad, I guess. I got some points today, though--a young guy who snapped his eyes away when I looked up. Muahaha. It's interesting not being the self-conscious tongue-tied one, even if there's no actual interaction.

Once we got home Lark and I went and camped with Miles in Love at the bottom of the garage stairs. It's a very effective method of recovery, and I got sidetracked into the denouement of A Civil Campaign while looking for the beginning of the short story.

The physical therapy lady is here. She's a sturdy-looking lady named Lee, currently engaged in energetic discussion of Grandma's chances of recovery with Grandma. 

.....Whoa, that was awhile ago. Grandma and I just finished dinner, which was a sort of chicken noodle casserole kindly supplied by a bridge friend named Joan. The best of the meal was the after-dinner show, though. :3 It was getting dark, and about to rain, when deer started coming through! First it was just one with six-inch antlers off to the left of the greenhouse. He was followed by several more through there, until Grandma sent me to see if there were any visible from the studio. There was one right there by the balcony, on the patch of lawn between the steps and the driveway! He spooked like a lamb when I came through the door, but I froze and he decided I wasn't an imminent threat. He looked about a little more, flicking his ears like a sheep, before walking off along the path to the mailbox. The show ended with seven young bucks grazing on the lower lawn.

......Mum just called. That was at eight-twenty, and it's eight thirty-five now. In the meantime I helped Grandma get into her PJ's--which, while slightly less embarrassing than I anticipated, is still a bit--and clipped her toenails. Which is something of a relief, because it needed doing.

I finished "Winterfair Gifts", the short story about Miles' wedding. Is very good. I very much recommend it to you stay-at-homes who can't because the cheapskate library won't get it. *evil grin* Make that cruel. *cruel grin*